Crunch time

IT SEEMS to have been going on forever. And indeed it has, for Al Gore and George W. Bush have been their respective parties' presumed nominees for the presidency for much of the past four years. For sure, the race has had its emotions: dismay at the prospect of Bore v Gush; relief at the emergence of viable candidates in the primaries to rival both the front-runners; surprise at Mr Bush's vast lead in the early summer; surprise again at the way “the kiss” seemed to send Mr Gore way into the lead after the party conventions; and then some angry name-calling during the televised debates as the Democrats sought to convert Bush to Shrub and the Republicans to convert Co-President to Co-Liar. That, in short, is the story so far. But the ending—and the best choice—is far from clear.

That fact alone can easily revive the dismay. On November 7th, voters will choose the man who will occupy the most powerful job in the world, yet Americans can't seem to make up their minds which to go for. Fair enough: during the primaries, The Economist felt more inspired by John McCain than by either of the eventual candidates, for he stood for a shake-up of campaign finance and for a clear-eyed view in foreign affairs. On the ticket, we have more sympathy with Mr Gore's running mate, Joseph Lieberman, than with his boss, for Mr Lieberman combines an upright stance on moral issues with a welcome willingness to experiment in areas such as education. Yet that is either in the past, or irrelevant. Now, it is Al or Dubya.

Despite our London home, 40% of The Economist's readers live in the United States and have to (or ought to) vote, so since 1980 we have felt it incumbent upon us to say how we would vote, and why. So how would we decide?

The first question to ask is the dismay-bringer: is either of the candidates not qualified for the job? Gore-haters allege that the vice-president is tainted by the lies and immorality of his boss, Bill Clinton, and that he is anyway a fantasist prone to invent stories about himself. Neither charge sticks. It would be unfair to disqualify Mr Gore because of his boss's peckerdilloes, and in any event truth (at least the whole truth) is a sadly rare commodity in politics. Bush-haters say that he is naive, ignorant, inexperienced, and doesn't know the name of Chechnya's leader. That was indeed a genuine worry. But he has grown during the campaign, has shown a better grasp of his brief and, just as important, has proved to be a quick learner. Like Ronald Reagan in 1980, he has shown that he has a clear sense of where he stands on the big themes and, though hardly in the Gipper's league, that he can even communicate fairly well.

The next question is one that should make the veep weep. Shouldn't the case against change be overwhelming? America is in its ninth year of an extraordinary period of prosperity. There are no riots in its streets nor gigantic social problems at its door. Abroad, it is not stuck in any humiliating trap of the sort that, in 1980, caught Jimmy Carter. Yet Mr Gore is merely neck and neck with a much less seasoned rival.

This reflects badly on Mr Gore's political skills. Also, Americans may be displaying a healthy refusal to believe that governments bring prosperity; they give the credit to entrepreneurs and to Alan Greenspan, and, just as important, they do not see Mr Bush's small-government propensities as a threat. Perhaps just the reverse, given that Mr Gore, to distance himself from Mr Clinton, has chosen to bash big business and to pose as a class-warrior. Mr Bush's proposal of a huge tax cut might look reckless (which it is), but either voters are happy with recklessness that gives them their money back, or they don't take seriously a plan that could be changed as quickly as the White House curtains.

Indeed, another more sophisticated possibility looms on Mr Bush's side. It is that some voters do see a case for change. In the next few decades, America will face a demographic crunch in its Social Security (ie, pension) and health-care systems; and in the next few years, the weakness of public education could start to hurt, as the country's inequalities widen. These issues would be easier to tackle in today's prosperous times than in poorer ones (see article). And, though neither candidate merits a Nobel prize for his policy programmes, Mr Bush has, perhaps by necessity, shown a greater willingness to try new ideas to solve these problems.

Yet in America's system of checks and balances, a choice between presidents cannot reliably be made by combing through policy programmes. Any president faces huge obstacles in implementing his schemes. A president can set the tone, and the direction, but, without Congress on his side, he lacks the power to push through complicated legislation.

A better test of presidential mettle is a simpler one. How might the candidate react when his leadership is really needed, in a crisis at home or abroad? The most plausible domestic crisis in the next few years is a sharp recession, possibly associated with a stockmarket crash. At such times, two things will be needed: a willingness to leave Mr Greenspan or his successor at the Fed alone to sort out the monetary consequences; and a determination to avert a protectionist response in Congress, as unemployment rises and the trade deficit hangs heavily. Neither candidate looks a likely monetary meddler, certainly with Saint Alan still there. But on the trade front, this test leans strongly in Mr Bush's favour. While Mr Bush has been a clear free trader, Mr Gore, for all his debates with Ross Perot, has been increasingly unreliable on the issue. He is cosier with the sort of interest groups (trade unions) that will call for protection, and is keener on using labour and environmental standards to hamper trade.

And a foreign crisis, perhaps in the Middle East or between China and Taiwan? Here Mr Gore has the edge, for he has seen a crisis or two already, and is familiar with diplomacy. Mr Bush is self-evidently a neophyte. So, admittedly, are most new presidents, though one should not exult in the fact. On his side, fans often cite his team of advisers, many of them veterans of Reagan or Bush Sr. Yet a president cannot just be an advisee-in-chief. He must display the right instincts, which in foreign affairs should include a determination to set clear lines governing engagement abroad and clear lines for what behaviour from others might be deemed unacceptable, as well as an understanding of the need for allies.

Mr Bush, during the campaign, has shown progress in this regard, but it would be premature to draw too many firm conclusions. The real signs will come only when he appoints his foreign and defence policy team, and in his first crisis. So far, the accusations that he is an isolationist do not ring true: his campaign statements ring with the phrases of international engagement, and he might well engage China and Russia rather more vigorously than some might like. Still, despite Mr Bush's sound instincts, Mr Gore must be ahead on this test, thanks to his experience.

By now, our scoresheet will be clear. The Economist, if it had a vote, would choose George W. Bush. It prefers his small government, pro-market philosophy. And, on the simple test of the two crises, he wins on points: behind on a foreign crisis, but well ahead in a domestic one. The tenor of his presidency would depend crucially on Congress: to restrain the social illiberalism and occasional isolationism of other Republicans, the best outcome would be a divided one, with the Democrats back in control of the House of Representatives. Let's see.